All They Need - By Sarah Mayberry Page 0,44
deadline for a tender on a government housing project. He was still shoveling his way through his in-tray on Wednesday when his assistant stuck her head in the door.
“Flynn. I’ve got Mel Porter on the phone. She’s delivering your car and wondered where you’d like it parked. Shall I direct her to your spot or tell her to leave it in guest parking?”
He’d been hunched over his desk going over a specification chart but he straightened immediately. “Mel?” he repeated stupidly.
“That’s what she said.”
He was unprepared for the flood of pleasure and anticipation he felt at the thought of seeing her again. “Put her through.”
She returned to her desk and a few seconds later his phone rang.
“Mel.”
“Hi. Sorry to disturb you. I only wanted to know where you would like the car parked but your secretary insisted on putting me through to you.”
“Why are you delivering my car? I thought some guy named Jimmy was going to do it?” He’d spoken to Mike the previous afternoon to make the arrangements.
“Jimmy has the flu and Dad didn’t want to hand your $300,000 car over to a pimply-faced eighteen-year-old who’s seen Ferris Bueller’s Day Off one too many times.”
He grinned and sat back in his chair. “I can only applaud your father’s excellent judgment. How far away are you?”
“About ten minutes. Your secretary mentioned something about guest parking.”
“Turn into the entrance to the underground garage. The guest parking is immediately on your right. Reception’s on the ground floor. Let them know when you arrive and I’ll come down.”
“You don’t need to do that,” she said hastily. “You’re busy. I can drop the keys at Reception and leave you to it.”
“Or you could have lunch with me.”
“You don’t need to buy me lunch.”
“I want to.”
She was silent for a long moment. Probably trying to come up with an excuse.
“You must be busy,” she said lamely. “I don’t want to mess up your day.”
“I’ll see you in ten minutes, Mel.”
He thought for a minute after he’d hung up, then buzzed his secretary. “Mary, what’s the name of that new Spanish place everyone’s talking about in St. Kilda?”
“The Lexington Hotel?”
“That’s the one. Can you get me a table for two for twenty minutes from now?”
“What about your one o’clock?”
“I’ll move it.”
He sent an email to reschedule his one o’clock, then grabbed his jacket and wallet and headed for the door.
“I’ll see you later, Mary,” he said as he breezed past her desk.
She looked astonished. Probably because he almost never had lunch, unless it was a business meeting. He took the lift to the underground garage and walked up the ramp to where the guest parking was located. He’d been waiting barely a minute when Mel pulled in. She saw him and gave him a confused little wave before driving into a parking spot and turning off the engine.
“What are you doing down here?” she asked as she unfolded her tall body from the car. She was wearing dark jeans and a black turtleneck beneath a short red woolen coat, her hair loose over her shoulders.
She looked great.
“Waiting for you in case you tried to bail on my lunch offer.”
She frowned and he pointed a finger at her.
“Tell me it didn’t cross your mind.”
Her expression became a little sheepish.
“Busted,” he said.
“You don’t have to take me out to lunch just because I’m dropping off your car.”
“I know I don’t. Come on, we’re having Spanish in St. Kilda.”
He plucked the keys from her hand. She hesitated a moment before circling the car to the passenger door.
“Nothing fancy,” she said. “I’m not dressed for fancy.”
“It’s lunch and it’s Spanish. Jeans are fine.”
She slid into the car and reached for her seat belt.
“How did Gertie behave?” he asked as he reversed out of the parking spot.
“Like a dream. It’s a beautiful car. Some people might say too beautiful to have such an ugly nickname.”
“She’s earned that nickname, don’t you worry,” he said as they shot up the ramp and out into the street. “The number of times she’s broken down on me…”
She gave him a curious look. “Maybe you should get something more reliable then.”
“I couldn’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because that would mean admitting defeat. Besides, we all have our flaws, right?”
He could feel her watching him and he took his eyes off the road to glance at her. “What?”
“Nothing.” She shifted her gaze to the front.
“I hope you’re hungry,” he said. “This place is supposed to be good.”
“I could eat.”
They talked about her garden for the remainder of the